


Stealth is a State of Mind

by lavvyan



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Episode Related, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Moving In Together, Steve McGarrett was in Naval Intelligence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-30 01:11:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16754983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavvyan/pseuds/lavvyan
Summary: Their next date goes a lot better, and the one after that better still. Danny doesn't question why Steve's taking him surfing, hiking, to dinner, because they've already been doing those things. It's perfect. Steve can get his fill of Danny, and Danny can get out of his head for a while and have fun and loudly marvel every time Steve produces his wallet. All without suspecting a thing.Steve congratulates himself on the flawless execution of a brilliant plan.Steve decides to stealth-date Danny. What could possibly go wrong?





	Stealth is a State of Mind

**Author's Note:**

> I don't care if it's the 27th where you are. There's still an hour to go in my time zone but I desperately need sleep so here, have a hobbit gift. Tiny spoiler for the end of 9x03, goes AU from there.
> 
> Also, this was supposed to go on Tumblr, but it got a bit long. Sorry, Tumblr.
> 
> Completely unedited for now, so concrit is welcome.

Consider: Steve doesn't fall in love with Danny for eight years. And when he finally does, the feeling doesn't so much hit him as slam into him with the force of a semi running a red light. 

It's the end of a heat wave and rain has never felt this amazing. Steve basks in it for all of a minute before he makes the mistake of glancing over to Danny. 

Danny looks... transported. Lying on his back on the table, eyes closed, an expression of complete tranquility on his face. 

In that moment, Steve wants to touch him so badly his fingers twitch at his sides, and he's taken a step forward before he can stop himself because no. 

No. 

This is Danny. Danny isn't for him. Not in that way. 

Not even when he's peering at Steve like that, a little quizzical and a little amused. Eyes half-lidded, water dripping from his lashes, still visibly at peace with the world. 

God, Steve _wants_. 

But no.

However, rationalizing doesn't make the want go away and so Steve, who wasn't in Naval Intelligence for nothing, develops a cunning plan. 

He's going to date Danny. 

Covertly. 

Just long enough to get a grip on his emotions. 

Danny will never even have to know. 

His timing couldn't be better: they're both single at the moment, and Danny's been a little frustrated at the way his relationship with Melissa just... petered out, somehow. Steve has the best excuse to step in and cheer Danny up, like the good friend he is. 

Their first date is a movie. Danny likes science-fictiony stuff and Steve remembers Grace spending a long afternoon rhapsodizing about the near-parental role of Iron Man in Spiderman's life, so he makes a big bowl of popcorn and pops _Avengers: Infinity War_ into the blu-ray player. There's even enough of a cool breeze that Danny makes himself comfortable under Steve's arm as they settle down on Steve's couch. 

Smooth Dog indeed. 

Two hours later, Danny sits stock-still as Spiderman turns into a cloud of dust and Steve has a near-overwhelming urge to call whoever made this movie and ask them what the hell is wrong with them. 

"I'll get the beer," he says grimly, and they get quietly, thoroughly drunk. 

Steve avoids movies after that.

Their next date goes a lot better, and the one after that better still. Danny doesn't question why Steve's taking him surfing, hiking, to dinner, because they've already been doing those things. It's perfect. Steve can get his fill of Danny, and Danny can get out of his head for a while and have fun and loudly marvel every time Steve produces his wallet. All without suspecting a thing. 

Steve congratulates himself on the flawless execution of a brilliant plan. 

He may have a little trouble every now and then to keep himself from kissing Danny goodnight, but that is neither here nor there. 

On what only Steve will ever count as their one-month anniversary – he cooked for Danny, the prelude to a quiet night of sitting in their chairs and looking out over the ocean behind Steve's house – Danny slides a slim file folder across the table. 

"What's this?" Steve asks, opening it to glance at the top page. 

"The paperwork for a joint bank account," Danny says. 

Steve must have heard that wrong. 

"A joint bank account?"

"That's what I said, a joint bank account."

"For us?" 

"No, for Lou and Junior," Danny rolls his eyes. " _Yes,_ for us. With the way we're both skirting bankruptcy thanks to the restaurant, we might as well do it together."

Steve hesitates, but in the end, Danny's right. They're already all in, financially, and it's not like Steve will be signing over his house. Having a joint account will make managing the restaurant that much easier. So he signs the papers and Danny smiles at him, causing Steve's heart to do that annoying flutter. 

He'll have to spend more time with Danny. Overdosing on proximity, that's the only way Steve can think of to get his feelings back to normal. 

A month passes, then another. Spending nearly every minute of his time with Danny hasn't put a dent into Steve's quietly, desperately _wanting_ him, but Steve's on the right track. He's sure of it. And besides, Danny has started to reciprocate, taking Steve out for lunch or a drive around the island or to enjoy a particularly spectacular view, so at least Steve's wallet is getting a bit of a breather. 

Steve's wallet, which is fed by Steve's bank account, which he shares with Danny. Because that's a thing partner's do. 

Work partners. 

It's a good thing Steve's SEAL training included mental fortification as well, otherwise he might feel in over his head. 

Between their ever-growing case load and teaching the new kids, Danny's about as far from tranquil as anyone could be without having a coronary. He's loud and opinionated, volatile and biting, and so damn smart and loyal and steadfast Steve can't help but love him. Love him wholly, with a fervor that refuses to abate no matter what Steve does. 

If only he could get close enough to Danny to satisfy that persistent longing, everything would be okay. He could go back to loving Danny as a friend, put their lives back on track, maybe even start dating again. Encourage _Danny_ to start dating again. 

But there's just no way to claim even more of Danny's time, unless-

"Rachel's suing for custody again," Danny says. "She wants off the island and to take them back to London."

It's their six-month anniversary, not that Danny knows it. Steve brought him chocolate malasadas and flowers in the form of a potted plant he plonked down on Danny's desk to 'brighten up the office.' Danny unwittingly played along by suggesting dinner at The Beachhouse, where he's apparently owed a favor. 

He doesn't seem to be enjoying his steak, though, despondently pushing it around his plate. 

"Sorry, buddy," Steve says, "that sucks."

Danny sighs. 

"She says my serial dating over the past few years shows I'm not capable of a steady relationship." He waves his knife in a little circle, then stabs it in the direction of his fork. "I should have moved in with Melissa when we were still together." 

Steve pauses, his own fork halfway up to his mouth. 

"Why?"

"Because, Steven," Danny says, in that way he has when he's about to pull out the big words, "cohabitation underlines the seriousness of a relationship between consenting adults." He sighs again. "At least it would've demonstrated that I've settled down here."

And Steve has the most wonderful idea. 

"You're moving in with me," he says. 

Now Danny is the one to pause. 

"I'm _moving in_ with you?"

"You're moving in with me," Steve says again, quickly warming up to the idea. This is _perfect_. "You've lived with me before."

"For a _week_. And I drove you up the wall!"

"So? Now I know how to handle you." Steve grins at Danny's outraged expression. "Seriously, if planning to open a restaurant isn't settled down enough for the judge, moving in with your partner shouldn't leave any doubt."

"Steve." Danny puts his cutlery on the plate to give Steve his full attention. "You realize that where I go, my kids go, right?"

Steve pictures it. Charlie spreading chaos in his living room and Grace throwing parties on his beach. Danny making a mess of his kitchen and grumbling about Steve eating more than his fair share even as he serves him his third plate. All three of them leaving their wet towels on the bathroom floor and filling the house with more noise in a week than Steve managed in the last five years combined. 

"Move in with me," he says, more certain than ever, and this time, Danny agrees.

The kids move into the guest rooms because kids should have a private space. This leaves Danny on the couch again, at least until Steve can haggle down the price for the upstairs renovation to something less ruinous than what Kamekona's cousin is asking. Danny still wins his custody case. Steve doesn't even pretend not to gloat. 

It's... tricky, though. Coming downstairs for his morning swim without stopping to stare at Danny, peacefully asleep. Watching him hug his kids without jumping right in. Listening to him tell convoluted bedtime stories to Charlie without lingering in the doorway to make sure he doesn't miss a word. 

Hearing him shuffle into the kitchen and handing him a mug of coffee without pulling him into his arms and breathing him in. 

Tricky, but Steve does it. This may be a longer mission than he'd expected, but he'll see it through. Failure, after all, is not an option. 

Even if most of their date nights have become family nights. 

The Danny-on-the-couch arrangement works well right up until Christmas, when Steve is woken from an eggnog-enhanced sleep by Danny knocking softly but persistently on his door frame. 

"Whuh?" 

"The tree is to bright," Danny whispers. 

"… Whuh?"

"The _tree_ ," Danny insists, "is too bright. I can't sleep."

"So pull the plug," Steve mumbles, pressing his head deeper into the pillow.

"Pull the _plug_?" Danny whisper-yells. Steve bites back a groan. "And what if my kids ask why the tree is dark in the morning, huh? Do I tell them Santa missed the house because their Danno couldn't sleep and _pulled the plug_?!"

"Christ, _fine_." Steve fumbles for the edge of the sheets on the free side of the bed and pulls them up. "Come on."

Danny doesn't move. 

Steve shakes the sheets for emphasis. 

Danny inhales and then lets out his breath, almost a sigh. The bed creaks a little as he settles in beside Steve, turns on his side, finds a comfortable position. 

And this. Danny lying next to him, breathing quietly, warmth seeping into the sheets. This has to be enough, right? To finally stop the wanting, the heart-fluttering, the way Steve's world lights up the moment Danny steps into it. This has to be the thing that finally satisfies Steve's stupid craving. 

It has to be.

It's not. 

And Steve... Steve gives up. Slowly, one day at a time, he lets himself accept the truth that where Danny is concerned, Steve will never get enough. He's going to keep stealth-dating Danny until Danny moves on to someone else, moves out, goes back to being the best friend Steve's ever had instead of... of... 

Instead of being the guy who's still sharing Steve's bed because Steve left the tree up longer than usual and the upstairs still isn't renovated and anyway, Steve's mattress is more comfortable than the couch. 

Christ. What the hell is he doing?

He has to end this. He's been lying to Danny for, god, way too long. One way or another, this pretending has got to stop. 

He's got to come clean, before Danny finds out on his own and Steve loses him forever. 

He settles on their one-year anniversary because, well, it's barely a week away and now that he's decided to stop stealth-dating Danny, Steve finds he can't get enough of him. 

If he's only going to have a few more days of Danny being this close, he's going to soak them up for all he's worth. 

He's booked a table at Morimoto, ignoring Danny's curious gaze as they're led to a secluded table. The kids are with Jerry; they've got the whole night to themselves. Steve knows he should let them eat first, before the mood is ruined, but he can't bring himself to put this off any longer. 

"Listen," he says, just after the waiter brought their drinks, "we've got to talk." 

Danny nods. 

"I agree," he says. "How about I go first?"

Before Steve can argue, Danny reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box, placing it carefully on the table between them. 

Steve doesn't touch it. 

"What's this?" 

Danny blows out a breath. 

"It's a bowling ball, you schmuck. What do you think it is?" He nudges the box closer to Steve. "Will you open it already?"

"I don't know," Steve says, but he picks up the box and turns it to find the hinges. "Is it going to explode?"

"That's your field of expertise, not mine." 

Danny goes on to say something else, but Steve isn't listening anymore. 

He's flipped the box open. Inside, fixed to a small, velvety cushion, rests a dark-silvery ring, plain and unadorned. It looks like it would fit perfectly on Steve's finger. 

Steve's hand is shaking as he touches it, looks up to search Danny's face for an explanation. 

"I thought we might make it official," Danny says quietly. His fingers are clutching the stem of the wineglass a little too tightly for the nonchalant expression he's putting on. 

Steve can't breathe. 

"Official?" he rasps. 

Danny smiles, or tries to, a bare twitch of his lips. 

"We've been together for a year. You usually move faster than this."

Which is a complete lie, but Steve's words have deserted him. He stares at the ring, lying innocently on its little cushion. Not at all looking like something that could turn a world upside-down. 

"Are you going to say something?" Danny asks, his voice tight. 

Steve shakes himself from his daze, clutching the box as he meets Danny's eyes. 

"Yes?" he hazards. They never even kissed, and Danny wants to marry him. 

Danny. 

Wants to marry him. 

Wait. 

Danny already got up from his chair, plucking the box from Steve's hand as he stands beside him. 

"You knew?" Steve asks. He'd be embarrassed about the way his voice cracks halfway through, except Danny's barely managing to fumble the ring out of the box so obviously they're both a little shaken. 

"Babe," Danny says, eyes crinkling and so much affection in his voice Steve inexplicably wants to cry. "What, do you think I ask all my friends for joint bank accounts? Of course I knew." 

He slips the ring on Steve's finger, a perfect fit. Neither of them can keep their hands entirely steady. 

_All or nothing,_ Steve thinks stupidly, and pulls Danny down and into a kiss. 

He almost moans into it, right there in public. Danny opens up to him immediately, and his taste... his _heat_... God, if Steve had known it would be like this, he wouldn't have been able to hold out a month, let alone a year. Danny is addictive, and Steve is happily giving himself over to a lifetime of fixation. 

"So let me get this straight," he rasps, because suddenly the past year is appearing in a whole new light. "While I was stealth-dating you, you've been busy stealth-marrying me?"

Danny gives him a sunny smile. 

"I made you make me move in," he says, his expression so smug that Steve has to drag him into another kiss. Not that Danny offers any resistance. 

When they pull apart, Danny keeps his eyes closed for a moment, looking content. At peace. 

Steve's fingers twitch, curl into the fabric of Danny's shirt, hot skin underneath. 

He's never going to let go. 

~~~

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy early birthday to me.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Lunatic Entanglements](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16766170) by [bgharison](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgharison/pseuds/bgharison)




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